


Pineapple

by jxpit



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anger, Blood, Comfort No Hurt, Fisticuffs, Gen, Hurt, Temper Tantrums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-25 16:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15644988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxpit/pseuds/jxpit
Summary: What was the point of being called something that he was obviously not? Why was he to be insulted by someone that he considered lower than soil? He was a god, and the other was a mere mortal compared to him in all aspects. It was merely something to tick him off and cause an explosion of anger. And damn it, it worked. It was the ticking time bomb that everyone knew would happen. All because of one word.





	Pineapple

**Author's Note:**

> //shrug  
> madara is our big baby son. cant spell madara without "a drama" anyhow.  
> btw theyre not gay theyre just super good friends.  
> Thank you for reading
> 
> ========  
> I also started a ko-fi, if you would like to support me send me a dm and I'll happily take your commission.  
> The link is: ko-fi.com/jxpitr

The day was growing older, the mid morning rays seeping through the curtains with a warming yet comforting happiness. Bright rays escaped through the thin curtains and illuminated just a sliver of desk, unhelpfully shining against the resting man's face. Dark eyes peeked through matted and very much greasy hair, groaning as creaking joints cracked without satisfaction as he moved from his stiff position. A trail of drool was wiped away from the corner of his chapped lips, the exhausted man scratching the back of his head as he stood and turned to head towards his bathroom with robot like movement. Madara figured that there was at least another hour or so before the meeting considering how bright the sun was becoming. Tiredness was looming dangerously on his tensed shoulders, which were slumped forward as hands gripped the sink tightly while his tired gaze stared at his calloused hands. It seemed that every small detail was bothering him, teeth gritting together as he stomped around the bathroom. The chirping coming from the birds were ear piercing, their melodic singing no longer considered beautifully exotic. Whatever was agitating him, it was working quite well. A growing temptation to throw kunai at the offending animals was growing at a quick pace and despite malicious intent, it took several deep breaths to calm down. No reason to get entirely worked up before a meeting with the Senju. For now, the Uchiha leader must focus on becoming presentable before the gathering between the two clans. Nothing as minute as birds singing their morning songs was going to stop this man from giving the best damn argument that he has came up with!

Literally the night before.

Perhaps the reason that he was so irritated by every small detail was the lack of sleep from the past few days. Everything felt so painfully slow, sluggish. Tense. Joints were stiff from sleeping at his desk, hair a greasy mess from not washing in several days. It was never a true win-win situation for him, either he sleeps or he refuses until he has perfected his plan for whatever it might be. Nothing was perfection until he was satisfied with the work. Something that he could proudly exclaim to the other clan. In the end, there was no logical reasoning to continue to stay up seeing how dreadfully fatigued he was, however considering he was already on his way back to his room after using the washroom it was all but pointless. Besides, there was an important meeting to conduct and being upset over frivolous ideas was nothing short of pettiness. The leader was too egotistical to let this opportunity go to waste! What a precious chance to perhaps change the laws of this doomed land. Nothing was to get in his way, and no matter who it is will face horrific repercussions.

Madara stripped from the clothing that he had worn the night prior, letting them fall to the floor where he stood before kicking them to the side. Padding unhurriedly to the corner of his room, he carefully picked up his clothing for the day and a roll of bandages. It had to be complete, perfect. Crease free, and very proper. Nothing was to be out of place. Nothing short of perfection was allowed. He was representing a clan greater than any other than walked this earth! And to dress as a slob was nothing more than the dirt that he walked upon. Completely unexceptionable. He would not allow himself to dip that low, he was not Senju.

And with utmost carefulness, he began to slip into his wrinkle free shirt; only to find a rather large hole in the middle, his bellybutton showing awkwardly. The Uchiha's eyebrow twitched with annoyance, clicking his tongue as he removed the shirt with the same caution that he had when he put the article of clothing on to inspect it. The metal of his armor would surely hide it, and since there was no other crease free shirts he would have to make due. It did damper on his mood a bit, trying to push through it as he continued to get dressed. It did rattle in his head for a while, a dark cloud starting to form.

Once he taped his shins, pant legs now tightly wrapped against his calves, Madara began to assemble his armor sluggishly. The sound of metal clinking together filled the air as he picked up each component, the buttons clipping into place once the shoulder guards were set in place with ease. Now to make sure that his chest plate was in order. The Uchiha wandered over towards the wall mirror in the corner of his room, inspecting the crimson material that decorated his body. Everything seemed to be in place on the left side of his body. Hope began to grow once more, brightly showing as a smirk upon dry lips. All until he turned to his right side, lips immediatly turning into a frown with teeth bared and gritting. Everything but a few plates that seemed to be jammed into one another was in order and that was not enough. Not proper. Dirt, he felt horrid looking at the simple mistake. This time his eye twitched, breathing deeply to calm himself down. He repeated calm down in his head. No reason to be enraged. It was, however, quite frustrating, and after much gentle tugging and pulling it seemed to loosen a bit. Dark eyes brightened just a bit once again, slightly hopeful that perhaps his bad luck was running away fast. Only noticing that there were several scratches upon the metal, paint chipped away and exposing silver that was beneath it.

There was that horrible eyebrow twitch once again, hands clenching tightly into angry fists and teeth gritting together with a snarl. He always made sure that the protective covering was in top notch condition, more so than anything else that he would wear. In battle, proper armor was something that can change the moment. Good, pristine armor can mean life or death. And honestly, nothing brought more nuisance than chipped metal. So much for being prim and proper. There was no time to repaint it now as he had to start moving or face being late. And being late was wrongful. With an exasperated huff, Madara made sure to collect his paperwork off of his oak desk. Briefly he made sure that he had everything in order before heading towards the front door. Hand was placed on the doorknob, going through his mental list before shaking his head. Of course he had everything! With a smirk and shoulders pulled back with a dominant air, the Uchiha leader slipped on his gloves before leaving his home to begin his trek to the Hokage's tower.

The day was warm, the sun's beautiful rays shining down onto the Uchiha's head with gentleness. Birds were no longer singing their beautiful morning tunes, but instead insects and frogs played their soft melodies in the grasses that Madara walked through. The air was cool for once, not normal for being in the middle of summer and it was an honest blessing on his weary soul. Despite being an Uchiha, heat was not a pleasurable experience for an exuberant amount of reasons; mostly it was due to his thick birds nest of a hair, the dark color absorbing heat and trapping it disgustingly. Typically during the summer Madara would not have worn so many layers, it would be so humid that there was no point and therefore would only cause him to be sluggish. It was a beautiful day, and despite the minor mental set backs at home perhaps it was going to be a splendid day! There was some sort of warming hope ready to bloom happily. Nothing could stop the smile that was breaking through, small and almost rather wimpy. The sun was warming his cold soul, and his aura was calm for once. Nothing felt better than a breezy, sunny day on his skin. It gave him a slight feeling of content. It gave him a beautiful source of energy, happiness washing over his shoulders.

But it was there for the walk to the town. Once stepping into the main path, the leader's face became strict and void of any emotions. To him, to show emotions was a sign for others to know how to destroy the current publicized image that he had given to the civilians. He wanted to be known as a powerful force. A deity. Something that was able to instill great fear within the community. It would be futile if he was walking round happily instead of exuding confidence. Nothing was worse than showing his true colors. His true self was someone for behind closed doors. He did not want to be viewed as a weakling. He was not a forlorn man to the civilians, or to the Senju. He was his own entity. Something strong. A powerful leader. In his mind, Madara wanted to show the land that he was a force to be reckoned with. Not someone that was mistaken to be soft, full of human emotions or gets frustrated over the simplest things.

Madara wanted to be known for his different opinion. His menacing strength, not his softness that he had grown over the years. His brother's untimely murder brought him anguish- there was nothing to be able to bring Izuna back. The mere thought made his head droop, chakra spiking just slightly. It has been several years since the younger had been killed, there was no reason to still be so sorrowful. But it gave him strength to push forward, a reason to be so hateful towards Senju and their supporters. Why would he forgive? Tears and sorrows were not enough to revive someone that he dearly cared for. Jealousy was too much for Madara at times, increasing spiteful anger.

There was a guttural sound coming from the back of his throat, full of distaste and dull thoughts of vengeful murder. Perhaps today would be a dull dark day. He felt too sluggish and the sun was no longer warming to his pale skin. Fatigued all the sudden, the man stopped just outside the main door to the building, hand resting on the doorknob loosely. How he missed his brother. Jealously was a disease and it only created issues. There was no honest reason why he would be so hung up on the issue. Especially now, he could hear heavy footsteps behind himself. Madara urged himself to continue further, keeping to himself despite the person catching up to him rather quickly.

"Madara!" Came the boisterous tone, a shoulder clasping against the said man's iron covered shoulder. The Uchiha shrugged off the hand, brushing off the spot that was touched, "It is nice to see you! How have you been? It has been quite a while!"

Hashirama was faced with a silent brick wall, not noticing how serious the shorter's facial features had set into. Never noticing the gritting teeth, never noticing the soft crinkling sound of paper in the shaking grasp. He did, however, take into notice his younger sibling walking in pace with the two. The Hokage's hands clapped together with joy, now focusing on Tobirama. There was idle chatting between the two, despite several times the younger Senju hushed the other so that Madara did not hear what they were speaking about. Giggling ensued, causing the Uchiha leader to pause in his steps. His eyebrow quirked upwards, gaze set on the silver-headed male.

"Can you repeat that?" he questioned, voice a harsh whisper. There was nothing , "I rather you not talk about me while I am walking beside you two. I understand that you dislike me, Senju. But i do not wish to be in the presence of you two any further, especially with you, Tobirama. I wish to get this meeting completed."

"I do not wish to repeat my words, Pineapple."

Something had snapped once the harmless joke had escaped Tobirama's lips, and soon the man found himself on his back with fists flying at his face. Blood coated leather gloves, dripping down to color milky skin. It was much harder to kick off Madara, thankful that his older brother was there to drag him away. The youngest's nose was obviously broken, the bridge of his nose jutting up while blood spurted from his nostrils. His red eyes looked watered with pain, but very much gritted his teeth through the pain to take an angry whack back at Madara. Before he could realize what was about to happen, the Uchiha's head whipped to the side; his own nose was gushing blood as well, only to be made worse by the yet another harsh punch to the face as repercussion.

"Cease your damn existence, Uchiha," Tobirama spat, turning to leave. He continued as he stomped off, hollering back, "I do hope you do not show up! I will beat you further, wretched Uchiha!"

It took until the youngest had turn around the corner until Hashirama spun the fellow leader around so that he could get a better look at his face. Dark blood poured from bruised nostrils, soaking clothing that it had touched and drenched his fingers as he tried to clean it up. To try and be a good friend. To be there for when no one else would as he was just that sort of person. It was rather futile, his hand was slapped away spitefully and glared at with glazy dark eyes. The Hokage knew that the shorter was prone to terrible bouts of anger, only to be made worse when his brother was murdered by his own. There was nothing to understand the pain that the other still must feel, but now was now. And that was in the past. Nothing was worth sulking over, progression was the key to success. To properly heal and move on from trauma. Holding onto the past was nothing short of toxic behavior for anyone.

There was silence as he quite literally dragged Madara towards the restroom for privacy, deciding against going to the meeting in favor of cleaning up his injured friend. Friendship was much more important in this scenario. Nothing was more salient than protecting what sanity was left. It was going to be okay, Hashirama knew that for a fact. But for now it was time to clean away blood an heal fresh wounds. Quietly, he pushed past the bathroom's door and walked towards the sink. He ripped his own jacket for a makeshift bandage, making sure that it was damp before wandering back towards the Uchiha. Blood soaked up quickly into the rag once he touched the sensitive area, exhaling a rather exasperated sigh before ripping another piece of his shirt to carefully go over what he had missed.

Without speaking, Hashirama began to unclasp the armor from the other's body as he wanted to remove the shell. There was no reason to hide. They have known one another since childhood. And while there was understanding why there was such a high barrier. But now? No reason. Nothing was going to stop the Hokage from fixing this situation. With that, he pinched the other by the bridge of the nose with a feather like touch. He kept a steady hand as he move the cartilage back into place, quick to clean the spewing blood up and wipe away tears from the Uchiha's eyes. A deep frown grew on the Senju's face, placing his free hand firmly on top of greasy hair out of comfort. Mutual yet silent agreement to simply let the pain subside. Not so mutual agreement about the hug that the taller had engulfed Madara into, immediately becoming angered yet again.

"I need to go, please clean up. I am sorry for his behavior." Hashirama murmured, pulling away before moving past the Uchiha to exit the restroom. He paused, "Please take your time. I will stall for you. No need to be thankful. It will be alright, my dear Madara."

There was not much time until Madara sat on the ground, his head against the wall. The day was no longer warm, his skin no longer felt warmed by sunny rays. His face throbbed with pain, hissing as he cleaned up the blood. No reason to get so upset anymore. It was done. Perhaps he could use this to drive himself further. As an example to not become so enraged over being called petty names.

With that, he moved to put his armor back on and started to move out of the bathroom despite the bloodied nose. Back to his neutral emotion, feeling eerily calm. He would just have to get the Senju back somehow.


End file.
